


Hallowe'en Grab Bag snippets

by itstonedme



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF, The Faculty (1998)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hallowe'en, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-09
Updated: 2012-10-09
Packaged: 2017-11-15 23:36:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itstonedme/pseuds/itstonedme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets written as treats given out Hallowe'en 2007 and 2008.  Various LOTR and Faculty-inspired pairings, rated from from G to R.</p><p>Disclaimer: Works of fiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hallowe'en Grab Bag snippets

**Pick-Ups**  
 _ViggoBean_

"You been playing with the hobbits lately?" Sean inquired, goosing a jean-clad ass as it walked by the kitchen table. He'd flown back into New Zealand earlier that day.

Viggo looked at him with a look of horror. "Jesus, no. Why would you even ask?"

Sean eyed him up and down, smile lines broadening, and licked his lips. "You seem to have a youthful jump in your step today. Like you might have been sampling younger wares, if you know what I'm saying."

Viggo smiled lazily, and put his mug down on the table. Leaning down to meet Sean eye-to-eye, he grinned. "That's called 'anticipation,' baby."

 

**Cream**  
 _Viggorli_

"Come on, Vig," Orlando chuckled, giving his half-hard cock a long and lazy pull. He was so wasted and as naked as the day he'd come into the world. An uncapped water bottle nestled against one hip, held safe in loose fingers, and a leg hung carelessly over the chair's arm. Clapton issued from the stereo, blue notes and spare licks bringing it all down low and smoky and sultry-like. 

"They started calling him Slowhand in the early days," Viggo murmured, leaning against the door jamb to the kitchen.

Orlando smiled and tipped his head against the wingback. "That a fact," he grinned, palm continuing to work himself idly. He and Viggo hadn't stopped, slept or left the house since he'd arrived on the doorstep the night before, and dawn and dusk had come and gone since. "Come on, Vig," he repeated. "Dance for me."

Viggo half smiled and pushed himself off the doorway, beginning to sway easily to the music. Each sideways slide brought him ever more into the room, one hand running over his bare chest, the other swinging gently to the music.

"Oh…yeah…baby," Orlando murmured and closed his eyes to capture it. 

 

 **Appaloosa Rides Again**  
 _Viggorli_  
A follow up to [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/524315).

"FUCK!" Orlando barked, slapping his palm soundly against the headboard. His shoulders dug into the sheets and his head writhed against the pillow. 

Viggo stopped and looked up from between the vee of Orli's thighs, face serious. "You okay there, my friend?"

Twisting his hands through his hair, Orlando laughed, short and shaky and then looked down his chest with a quirked eyebrow. "It _does_ fucking tickle my arse, you arse. When do we get to shave the bastard off?"

"Not for four months," Viggo grinned before diving back down. "Prepare to meet the Wild West." 

 

**Viggorli limerick**

_There once was a pirate named Orli_  
Who ached for a ranger quite sorely.  
So he let down his hair,  
Made his arse awfully bare.  
And they romped until dawn – and then morely! 

 

**Myopia**  
 _Orlijah_

"Let me try on your glasses," Orli said, reaching across the kitchen table towards Elijah's face. 

"Why?" Elijah leaned away from grasping fingers.

"I want to know what I look like in them," Orli said. "Come on. I won't break them" – he carefully lifted the frames when Elijah moved forward to offer – "anymore than they already are," he laughed at the thin strip of adhesive tap holding one arm on. He set them on his nose. "Fuck me, but you are seriously blind," he grimaced, turning one way then another, as if that would make any difference. "So how do I look?"

"Duuhh," Elijah laughed. "If I could see, I'd tell you."

"Come on," Orli laughed, leaning closer and Elijah hitched up on his chair to meet him halfway. At about five inches, Orlando suddenly came into focus. "Oh," Elijah said as warm breath bathed his face. But far from looking at the glasses, Elijah could only stare at softly parted lips that framed a delicious hint of tongue.

"So how do I look?" Orli asked. As Elijah looked up, brown eyes stared at him from above the rim of the frames.

"Really good," Elijah whispered.

 

**Musical Options**  
 _Orlijah_

It was well past midnight and the Hallowe'en party was churning full bore. Wrung out by the dance floor, Orlando threw himself onto the couch beside Elijah, hair somehow still tamed in a glossy pompadour, spit curl neatly twisted over his forehead. The zipper of his black leather jacket – nothing would do but the 68 Elvis! – had steadily crept south over the last hour. Turning to Elijah, he tucked his head in close and sighed, "Love me tender, Lij." 

Elijah draped a waxed, bronzed leg over Orlando's leathery thigh and wriggled his pink sequined mini dress all along his side. Hooking a satin stiletto around Orlando's calf, he slipped a hand inside the jacket. "No, Orli," he purred, his Tina Turner wig hooking on the jelly roll as he pinched a nipple. "I'm gonna love you _rough_."

 

**The Impressionist**  
 _Banalando_

"I hear you've, um, been imitating me, like, on the talk shows, making me look all bouncy and hyper," Orlando grinned, twitching in his seat and tapping the table top. 

Eric tipped the waiter and slid Orlando his beer. "Yeah, a few times. You okay with that?" 

"Makes me look a little goofy, but yeah, it's good, it's good," Orlando said, inhaling a mouthful and coming up with a foam moustache. 

Eric leaned back, smiling. "You wear bouncy really well, mate," he soothed. "You can carry off goofy too, for that matter."

Orlando frowned, wondering if there was a compliment in there somewhere.

"I could have done feisty," Eric continued, eyes gravitating to the line of white along Orlando's upper lip. "And also agile. But mostly," he licked his own lips because that was all he could do in the crowded bar, "so very responsive." Grabbing his beer so as not to knock it over, he leaned in, curling his hand around Orlando's neck and pulling him in to whisper in his ear. "But if I did _those_ on TV," he murmured, "it might be letting the cat out of the bag, doncha think?"

 

 **Full Moon**  
 _Casey/Zeke_  
Inspired by [this](http://i227.photobucket.com/albums/dd116/itstonedme/HugeWhiteWings3383.jpg) costume accessory.

"I feel like an idiot." 

"Yeah, yeah," Zeke mumbles, fingers madly trying to make sense of an awkward buckle half hidden by ivory maribou feathers. "So humor me." 

"They make my nose itch." Upon which, Casey sneezes. 

Finally, the strap slips into place. "Come on," Zeke murmurs, leading Casey out into the night air, to the stone bench by the cedar hedge. "Step up." He adjusts Casey's white robe and the braces of the wings, and stands back, waiting.

And as the full October moon slips from behind a silver-laced cloud, Casey looks up, a porcelain angel with sapphire eyes.


End file.
